Blissful, Finally
by SkywardDiamond
Summary: At the Gate of Time in Lanayru Desert, Link and Impa defeat Ghirahim, providing Zelda and her rescuer with some time alone in a secluded cave before she must retreat into the past. First-person Link. Written for the "No E" challenge.


**A/N: This is a one-shot which fits into SS canon as well as my fic, "Book One". This has been written as an answer to the *No E* challenge, created by The Death Frisbee. The challenge was to write a short fic of your choice without using the letter E, both in the story and the title. **

**This takes place in canon at the point where Link finds Zelda and Impa at the Gate of Time outside of the Lanayru Mining Facility. It occurs under the assumption that Link and Impa were able to fight Ghirahim off, thereby allowing Zelda some time with Link before she must enter the Gate and into the past.**

**This also takes place in my fic in a future chapter which has not been written yet, although this rendition of the scene looks more to canon than anything; but this will be the basic idea. This serves as a bit of a tease for my Book One readers :p, and as an additional little scene for anyone only familiar with canon.**

**First-person Link.**

**So, enjoy this little E-free fic, and let me know what you think!**

Blissful, Finally

Unpitying, this sun is, as harsh as this land is arid. My blood is pounding. But just as sunlight will diminish, so will this pulsation.

Or will it?

In a frantic sprint, I run; frantic, but blissful; joyful, but anxious. This girl, this singular girl, is all right…for now.

Holding hands, across sand… Running… Blissful…finally.

I look to Impa, caring as usual. Jointly, Impa and I had fought and won. How? Only just, for this is Ghirahim; this lord of dominions that I cannot fathom. His magic is paramount. Ghirahim is… nightmarish.

This sand in my boots, though it may try, fails to own my focus; my joy. It will not. Not right now. Right now, it is this boy and this girl – us – and nothing.

Nothing but Impa. But a spark lights this woman's actions. At last, of this knight, Impa is in favor. No disapprobation, no chiding, no, "At this job, you fail, for you took too long."

I blush at Impa's past scolding. In many ways, Impa was right. But now, finally…

Flying past ruins, past land that harbors an odd nostalgia, that which is, in a way, imaginary; that which has not stood for…

Nobody knows how long. An apparition, this world is, and all that inhabits it – buildings, robots without motion; nothing without my aid. And this mammoth, ridiculous apparatus, this billowing contraption which I still can't fully control.

I think of Skyloft as I run. Always, it is in my mind. I think of my faithful companions.

To go back with this girl on my arm… A fantasy, but still a possibility.

I nod. It will follow this undying trial. But first, I must allow this girl to go. I must finish this.

Ghosts… Ghost brought back by my own hand haunt this sand, that facility, that prison of traps and iron and brass that I am all too happy to abandon; for it abandons logic, and I am through with it.

Will Hylia summon us back…? I don't know. But right now I am blissful. No villain, not him, not Ghirahim, can stop us.

Finally, I spot a cliff; a wall; a cavity within rock. Our sanctuary. All of us will find asylum in this hollow. Nobody will find us.

With rocky mountains all around us, our group slips into a dark grotto.

I build what quickly transforms into a mass of scorching warmth. I hold my hands out, warming my palms. So rough my skin is past this armor, but it still hunts for comfort.

A murmur, a scuffling, and a brush across my arm. I look.

This girl…this woman who has always had my world without knowing it…

I gawk at hair of gold and skin that glows. Royal, is what fills my mind. That purifying spring… It turns a girl to a woman. But this mission…this transfiguring… It can turn a boy to a man.

I unhook my scabbard. My sword hits rock with a clink. I am timid, but… I lift my hand to a stray strand.

Pallid, this hair is, from many days of blanching sun. My own hair is dark in comparison; almost brown.

Changing…from _nothing_ to…_us_. I blink.

_I want it. Do you?_

Past my hand I spot Impa, nodding, glad, approving…finally.

I watch as Impa walks out, giving us our privacy. I look down, agasp. What do I do…?

A hand grasps my chin. I look again.

This woman… Ghirahim had… I thought that…you…

"Link."

I sigh, motioning 'no', not knowing… I am a knight, and you, my...

What, truly? You will go… I will stay… Sacrificing your body to stop this… And dying? I don't know.

Is this right? It isn't…but…wait—

I gasp, waiting for words.

"Do you want this?"

My thoughts run away, burning and sharp and curious.

How I wish to know what your lips…

I am still clutching this gold hair. With my grasp I pull, drawing what I had always...

"Do you…?" My own words halt. I thank all that is good for shadow, for it masks my mortification. I know this woman, but I don't.

A hand grabs my tunic and pulls.

A soft 'mmm'. I look. My suspicion is fact. A mirror. My own thirst looks back.

Oh, Hylia… I just…can't…wait.


End file.
